


Shitty Thread Count

by clennam



Series: Lecherous One Shots [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Blow Jobs, Dorms, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Marijuana, Mickey is out and he doesn’t give a single fuck, One Shot, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Smut, Sub!Mickey, dom!Ian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 21:17:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19953253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clennam/pseuds/clennam
Summary: It's been a couple of weeks since Ian moved into his dorm room. Mickey's starting to miss him, so he decides to pay his boyfriend a surprise visit.**Originally titled Knock Knock.





	Shitty Thread Count

Ian was laid out on his bed, a joint hanging from the corner of his lips. No music was playing, but he found himself rolling his head from side to side to an imagined tune, appreciating the way the soft fabric of his pillow folded on the back of his neck as he moved about it. His wiggled his toes in his socks and drummed his fingertips on his stomach, allowing the dreamt up melody to consume him and guide his movements. He took in a drag of his joint, swallowed it deep into his lungs, and then exhaled it through the opposite corner of his mouth. The air before him grew thicker momentarily. His eyes fluttered closed as a new, more profound wave of repose swept across his being and sunk through his skin and into his bones. He felt his vertebrae stretch apart from one another, a small crack signaling the movement, as he breathed in deeply. The thought escaped him a few times, but Ian was eventually able to finish his silent gratitude to his temporary blindness and its ability to enhance his other sensations.

“This what they’re makin’ you do in college?” Mickey’s dry voice materialized seemingly out of nothing in the middle of Ian’s dorm room.

Ian’s eyes shot open, and he lunged up, bracing himself against the bed. Terror struck him as he tried to piece together the situation through his mental mist--whether Mickey was actually in his room or if his dazed brain had imposed his boyfriend’s voice over an actual intruder that he needed to fight. But his eyes quickly adjusted to the reality before him. They glazed as precisely as they could over Mickey’s face, then his chest in his dress shirt, and then at his hands, which were draped at his sides.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Mick, you scared the shit out of me,” Ian informed him, his breath consuming his voice. He placed a hand over his frantic, pounding heart. He swore he could feel the blood it was producing leaking into the rest of his body--a brief, irrational fear of the blood making him swell up like a tomato in front of his boyfriend arose. What an embarrassment that would be. 

“How did you get in?” he continued in a more normal tone as he rose from the bed, using his thumb and index finger to pluck the joint from his mouth.

Mickey raised his eyebrows and sunk the corners of his mouth against his gums. 

“Your high ass forgot to lock the door,” he concluded. Despite the judgmental remark, his tone was insouciant. He pulled the joint from Ian’s grip and shook it in front of the taller man blamingly.

“Yeah, well,” Ian chortled, his eyes closing and then opening back up slowly. “What’re you doing here anyway? You weren’t gonna come until next weekend, and by my calculations, it’s,” he checked his bare wrist, “Thursday.”

Mickey hitched his eyebrows up higher. He leaned over to the ashtray on Ian’s roommate’s nightstand and extinguished the joint. “That watch tell you what day it is, huh?”

Ian giggled again. He pinched the sleeve fabric of Mickey’s button up shirt between his fingers before laying the material flush against the man’s skin and gliding his hand down the length of his arm, pausing to fiddle with his fingertips.

“Got dressed up for me, too,” Ian purred, choosing to process Mickey’s question as being rhetorical. Mickey’s fingers curled in towards his own palm, but Ian gently extended them back out and continued toying with them. “Looking really pretty.”

Mickey’s breath hitched when Ian clasped all of his fingers in his hand, running his thumb across the knuckles.

“You know,” Ian began before leaning in close to Mickey’s ear. His breath was hot when he continued, “I don’t have my next class for an hour and a half.”

“Oh yeah?” Mickey commented wryly, an odd response to give considering how tight his pants felt.

“Yeah,” Ian hummed, releasing Mickey and pressing his hand gently against the protruding outline in Mickey’s jeans. His two hands met at the buckle of Mickey’s belt and lazily undid it while his tongue pressed against Mickey’s earlobe and circled around the ear’s ridges. Mickey began undoing the buttons on his shirt and then slipped it off his shoulders onto the floor.

Mickey shuddered, a small moan escaping from between parted lips as he drew his hands to rest on Ian’s sides. Ian’s tongue glided down behind Mickey’s ear and onto his neck, imprinting a tender kiss. He slipped Mickey’s jeans down a bit so he could comfortably slide his hand under the waistband of Mickey’s boxers. His hand drifted south some more until it was on Mickey’s cock, and he began to roll the rounded heads of his palm over its length.

Ian applied a gentle suction onto Mickey’s neck; a crimson splotch appeared when he pulled away. Mickey’s hands slipped under Ian’s shirt and began to traverse the landscape hidden under the fabric, running his fingers over the projecting ridges of Ian’s ribs.

“Have you been thinking about me?” Ian questioned against Mickey’s neck.

“All the fucking time,” Mickey answered instantaneously and dug his nails into Ian’s back.

“Good,” Ian praised.

He removed his hands from Mickey’s cock, which produced a small whine from Mickey, and clasped them around each of his boyfriend’s wrists. He laid them against his own trapped cock and lifted his head back up to Mickey’s ear.

“You’re gonna suck my cock before you get fucked,” he stated, his tone making it sound much more like an uncompromisable command.

Mickey nodded his head frantically, his breath shaking as his head bobbed up and down in understanding. He rushed to undo the drawstring on Ian’s lounge pants, which fell into a puddle of fabric on the floor. He then placed a hand on Ian’s chest and pushed the redhead into a sitting position on the bed, his long legs draped over the edge. Mickey then lowered onto his knees between Ian’s spread legs. He placed his hands onto Ian’s inner thighs and inched close to Ian’s cock, but he stopped suddenly right before he was about to take him in.

He looked up at Ian like a puppy. “Should we lock the door?” he whispered meekly.

Ian shrugged, unconcerned, without lifting his hands from the bed.

“I’m fine,” he established, “So what if someone comes in and sees you choking on my dick? I’d love it if everyone saw how good you are for me.”

Mickey exhaled a shaky breath, and his body relaxing as Ian’s words claimed him. His gaze glazed over and his tongue rolled over his bottom lip. He was entranced by Ian’s dominant but seemingly indifferent expression.

“Yeah,” he agreed, the word leaving his mouth on a smooth breath.

Ian smirked at him, enamored by the submissiveness. He removed his own shirt before placing a hand on the back of Mickey’s head and pushing his boyfriend down onto his cock, sucking in a breath between his teeth as the warmth of Mickey’s mouth enveloped first his head and then half of the shaft. He pushed Mickey’s head down a little further, moaning when he felt Mickey’s throat tense up around him, unable to accommodate any more of Ian’s length. Ian released his hold and slithered his hand through the soft hair to the top of Mickey’s head, relinquishing the control of his pleasure to his boyfriend.

Mickey’s flattened his tongue and dragged it along the underside of Ian’s cock, sliding his head slowly back up to the head. Once there, his tongue lapped along the rim of the head and gave broad licks that began just under the tip and ended right over Ian’s slit. Mickey then plunged Ian deep into his mouth, taking in as much as he could. When he gagged on the length, he felt Ian quiver under him. He hastened his pace, bobbing his head up and down, twisting as he went so his tongue could reach all around Ian’s cock.

Ian dipped his head backward, growing weak under the pleasure. He scrunched up his bed sheets with one hand and coiled Mickey’s hair in his fingers with the other, alternating between panting and exhaling profanities as Mickey’s tongue dashed along all sides of him.

Mickey’s nails dug into the delicate skin of Ian’s inner thighs, causing the redhead to tense up and suck in a sharp breath. He then glided one hand up to fondle Ian’s balls, massaging them gently. Mickey hollowed out his cheeks and applied a generous suction as his pace quickened again. He began swirling his tongue around the head in first a clockwise and then counterclockwise motion.

Ian tensed up again, and he realized that he was edging dangerously close to his orgasm. He abruptly pulled Mickey off of his cock, a parabolic trail of spit connecting Mickey’s mouth to Ian’s cock like a leash. With fingers still tangled in his black hair, Ian admired Mickey’s disheveled but absolutely lovely appearance--the blots of spit peppered on his chest; the parted and swollen lips that gleamed under the light; the stray strands of hair that disobeyed the confines of the hairstyle and decided to frame his face instead; the unwavering pant; and, most certainly Ian’s favorite, the lust replete eyes gazing out at him from half-closed eyelids.

“You look so fucking good like this,” Ian purred, drawing his hand down along Mickey’s cheek. He smirked when Mickey’s tongue, almost instinctively, poked out from the corner of his mouth in place of a verbal response.

“Bend over the bed,” Ian ordered.

Mickey scrambled to his feet and scurried out of his pants and boxers, kicking the articles towards Ian’s roommate’s bed. He bowed over the bed with his arms extended fully in front of him.

“I love you like this,” Ian said in a daze, admiring the scene before him. He leaned his body on top of Mickey’s and ran a hand smoothly down his boyfriend’s side to his ass. “Love seeing your ass stuck out, begging for me to fuck it hard,” he whispered into Mickey’s ear, feeling the shiver his words elicited.

Ian smirked again and retreated to his computer desk where he grabbed a bottle of lube from. He coated his fingers and placed the bottle on the bed to the left of Mickey’s body. He positioned himself behind his boyfriend and placed the clean hand on the small of his back. He gently teased the opening before pressing one finger in, surprised at the level of tightness.

“Been waiting for you,” Mickey explained between moans before Ian could even ask.

Ian worked his finger in and out slowly, allowing Mickey to accommodate to the sensation. As he slid in and out, he applied pressure to the rim in an attempt to help Mickey stretch out. Mickey’s body began to relax after a few pumps, and Ian took the opportunity to add in a second finger. He began angling his fingers inside of Mickey, searching for his prostate. After a couple of attempts, his fingers brushed against the sensitive gland, and Mickey let out sharp shudder as his body quivered, his stability wavering.

Ian began to gently scissor his fingers as he moved them about, brushing against Mickey’s prostate with every other pump, relishing in the quiet moans that were punctuated by sudden and intense groans of gratification.

Mickey bit on his bottom lip as Ian moved his fingers inside of him. He was whiteknuckling the sheets and lightly rocking back onto Ian’s hand. He let out a quiet sob when Ian removed his fingers, but braced himself and readjusted his grip on the sheets when he remembered what was coming next.

Ian picked up the lube again. Before he opened it, though, he placed a tender touch on Mickey’s buttcheek, rubbing his hand over the smooth skin. Mickey sank into the touch and yelped when the mild and affectionate contact was replaced by a hard, echoing slap.

Ian chuckled at Mickey’s response and uncapped the lube, pouring a generous amount onto his hand before laminating his cock with it. He stroked himself as he stood behind Mickey, again admiring the picture before him. He positioned himself behind Mickey’s entrance and placed one of his hands onto his boyfriend’s hip, using his other hand to guide him. He pushed in slowly and gently, allowing the initial resistance of Mickey’s hole to subside, and then sunk himself in until his body clapped against Mickey’s ass.

A loud, breathy moan flew out from between Mickey’s parted lips. Ian brought his now free hand to Mickey’s head and grabbed onto the hair, lurching the other man’s head backwards. His grip on Mickey’s hip tightened and his blunt nails pinned into the skin. He began gyrating his hips at a slow pace, pulling only a bit of his cock out before pressing back into Mickey. Mickey’s panting leveled out and the ring of pressure around Ian’s cock relaxed some more.

“Please fuck me hard,” Mickey begged quietly when Ian stopped moving momentarily.

That was all Ian needed to hear. He pulled Mickey’s head back a touch more and began moving his hips faster, rolling them against Mickey’s ass. As his pace hastened, so did the strength of his thrusts, and before long the clapping sounds of skin against skin sprung around from wall to wall, interspersed with Ian’s quiet grunts and Mickey’s resounding moans of ecstasy.

Mickey’s arms were shaking as Ian rutted against him, pulling his cock all the way out before slamming it back in. Expletives and Ian’s name tumbled out of his mouth, and his cock ached to be touched.

“Touch yourself,” Ian instructed him, as if he had been reading his mind.

Mickey collected himself mentally enough to successfully shift his weight onto his left arm before giving a long lick to his right palm and reaching down to stroke himself. He frantically pawed at his cock almost in sync with Ian’s systematic thrusts. His eyes rolled into the back of his head at the sensation of Ian pressing in and out of his ass, stretching him into the perfect fit for his cock.

“Fuck. Please come in me,” Mickey uttered suddenly, the stroking of his hand seemingly an automatic motion at that point.

The craving appeal caught Ian by surprise and was more than enough to push him right over the edge. His thrusting stopped suddenly, and he shuddered as he came inside of Mickey’s ass, his body twitching as the spurts of semen shot out of him. Mickey’s stroking motions also slowed down to being intermittent. He listened to the soft moans that consumed Ian as his orgasm rolled through him and passed. Ian then released the iron grip he had on Mickey’s hair and hip. Still panting, he put a hand on Mickey’s shoulder and pulled his boyfriend up to stand in front of him. Ian grabbed the bottle of lube again and poured a few drops onto the palm of his hand, his breathing now normal. He and Mickey faced each other, but Mickey’s eyes dipped down as Ian slipped his hand around his cock and began to slowly stroke him.

A moan danced out on Mickey’s breath as Ian’s grip tightened and his pace accelerated, pumping him from base to tip, his clutch at its tightest when he reached the latter. Ian placed a hand on the back of Mickey’s neck and locked their lips together when Mickey glanced back up at him. Their mouths parted some and their tongues tangled together as Ian twisted his hand about Mickey’s cock, enjoying the sounds that Mickey moaned into his mouth.

Within a few seconds, Mickey’s moaning got louder, and he placed stiff hands onto Ian’s pecs. Ian sped up his tempo of motion once more, and Mickey was soon exploding come onto Ian’s balled up hand, the semen dribbling down his skin. Their kiss softened, gentle lips caressing one another as they rolled into their post-coital paradise.

Mickey pulled away from Ian, losing his balance and collapsing onto the bed behind him. Ian chuckled and reached for a tissue to wipe his hand off with. Once he was cleaned up, he laid on his side next to Mickey, propping his head up with one hand and delicately running the fingers of his other hand across Mickey’s collarbones, neck, and jawline, watching how Mickey’s gentle breaths inflated and deflated his chest. He smiled sweetly as he studied his boyfriend’s gorgeous face.

“Maybe I should go to college--become your roommate and shit,” Mickey suggested in a normal voice, his eyes closed.

Ian chortled and gave Mickey a playful slap on the chest, to which Mickey grinned brightly.

“Yeah, maybe you should.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/_clennam)
> 
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